


'til you drown in the light, in the sound

by WashiEaglewings



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, KH Secret Santa 2018, pre-KHUX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashiEaglewings/pseuds/WashiEaglewings
Summary: It's not until they put on the masks that they can put names to faces.





	'til you drown in the light, in the sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Psianabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psianabel/gifts).



They’d known each other Before. Not as _friends_ per se, but acquaintances—they had recognized each other on the street enough to smile and wave, maybe trade a few remarks about the weather. If they’d traded names, they’d always forget and have to reintroduce themselves again. At some point Ava just thinks of her as “the cute shy girl from the bookshop” and is content with it.

She always catches Ava’s eye with her slight smiles and shy eyes, the arc of her hands twisting in the air as she talked, and Ava only ever offers smiles and kind laughs as they traded quick remarks about the weather. They don’t know each other well. They don’t know each other at _all_ , in the ways that’re important.

Except—one time Ava asks about a book on display and Invi’s eyes go bright, plunging into a rapid explanation that Ava only half-catches. Something about balls and swirling dresses and seas of masks. Ava’s taken by the way the other girl delights in it, fingering the sheepskin pages with a delicate touch despite her trembling hands. She doesn’t have the money to buy it—she wants to. It’s the thought that counts.

It’s an ordinary spring morning when the other girl disappears. Just vanishes, like the mist she’d breathed that morning on her dawn walk.

And it’s a whole week of sad staring at the empty space in the town’s plaza. The day she buys the book, when she’s settled in her favorite chair with candles burning, is the day the man in black arrives on her doorstep, introduces himself as “the Master” and captivates her with talk of hearts and light and key-shaped swords. He offers to pull one from her heart, but Ava accepts his offer before he can. It just… feels right.

He gives her the fox mask with a chuckle. She takes it in her hands and runs her thumbs over the golden eyes, the long slender muzzle and the dark markings breaking up the silver metal. “You won’t be able to take it off, see,” he says. “It’s what helps the magic work.”

“Like a dance,” she says, turning to the book on her nightstand.

“In a way,” he says coyly. “One that never ends.”

Her feet are young and strong, so. She has no objections, just packs the few belongings she has—her favorite slippers, the book, a journal and her best pen—and follows him out the door with only a note that says “Thank you, I’m gone” for management to remember her by.

The Master says something about “taking the long way, this time, it’s a beautiful day and you have to exercise to keep yourself healthy, am I right?” and leads her up to the huge clock tower that dominates the skyline. He asks her questions about herself, but not the ones she’s used to: he wants to know about her dreams (not her ambitions but the stories her brain tells her at night), and if she can do anything strange with her body (she’s double-jointed, but only in her thumbs, and he laughs at that), and what animals she’d had growing up (the meanest, fattest gray cat, his name had been Kilo).

When she tries to ask him questions, he waves his hand and says, “You’ll find out in time.”

It’s all warm-gray walls and gleaming wood _everything_ , polished so well that she can see her new golden eyes gleam back at her. The Master gives her a room to sleep in, plain but functional, and when she’s deposited her things he guides her into a large meeting room. Four people are already seated around it, each wearing their own gleaming mask.

The Master introduces her as “Ava, the fox, the fifth light and a chatterbox after my own heart” and names the other four in rapid succession: Ira, the unicorn, _he’s too serious all the time_ ; Aced, the bear, _not as dumb as he looks_ ; Gula, the leopard, _seems like the kid who shouldn’t have sugar_ ; and—

“Invi, the snake. Hasn’t really had that much to say, but I’m going to learn something about her soon or my name isn’t…”

His voice drowns out the second Invi looks up at her. Her mouth is mostly hidden by a scarf, her posture hidden by the folds of her flowing robes, and yet. There's something about the way her hand hovers in front of her for a moment before Invi says, “Pleasure to meet you.”

And if Ava hadn’t recognized the gentle curl of her hand, the soft voice would have clued her in. “Same,” Ava says.

Just like that, the girl from the bookshop has a name. And Ava—

Well. The Master tells her later that it’s the Keyblade resting in the depths of her heart responding to his pull that makes her heart feel like it's ready to explode, but she had doubts.

* * *

It still takes them a day to make a proper introduction.

Somehow the mask and the scarf have made Invi—she keeps whispering it, cradling it soft on her tongue, _Invi Invi Invi_ —bolder; she initiates conversations with the bear and the leopard, Gula and Aced… no, the other way around… and laughs softly as she sneaks bites of fried rice between words. Ava’s still taking it all in, trying to become comfortable with the new heaviness in the back of her head that’s supposed to be her Keyblade waiting to be summoned.

“Ava?”

“Yes?” she says, immediately drawn from her thoughts.

“Would you like to train with us?” a voice behind her asks, and she turns to see the unicorn—Ira, she corrects—extend a hand. He’s one of the first of the Master’s apprentices, she remembers; the oldest is somewhere else right now, on a mission of some sort. “We’d like the chance to get to know you.”

“And how you fight,” says the bear.

“If you _can_ fight,” the leopard teases.

“There’s no need to be rude,” Invi says, and stares straight at her. “You don’t have to, of course, but…”

“No. No, I’d like to!” Ava says, standing up from the small table.

“You can finish your rice…”

She doesn’t have the appetite for it anymore. “I’m too excited to eat now! Is there a, uh, training ground?”

“Of sorts,” Ira says. “Follow me.”

He leads the other four down, down, down, to a room of moving cogs. The clock rumbles the hours from high above them, thrumming underneath their feet. Ava flinches; she’s used to semi-steady ground to support her. “This is safe?” she asks.

Invi looks over at her. “Mostly,” she says, with a tone of voice that doesn’t match up at all with the way Ava had pictured her these past few months. Which isn’t fair, she knows, but. Still. Invi pulls her out of her thoughts with a slight beckon of her hand, which is immediately filled with a black-and-sea spray weapon that looks like it was tailor made for her. “I can show you how, if you’d like.”

It takes Ava a moment to summon her own weapon; her hands glow reddish-pink before her thoughts roar and the weight of the Keyblade fills her hands. She’s never so much as played with toy swords before—despite the round edges she knows, instinctively, this blade has bite. It’s a beautiful weapon. Almost too beautiful to use in combat. She’s never fought before. How’s she supposed to—what are they even supposed to do? Defeat the Heartless, whatever _those_ were, and protect the balance of light and darkness.

“Or you can watch,” Invi says, and turns to their training field.

But Ava steps forward, to supportive cheers from the boys, and sighs. The Keyblade thrums in her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing just yet,” she says.

There’s something to the thoughtful tilt to Invi’s head that lets Ava know she’s smiling. “Then it’s a good thing I’m an excellent teacher,” she says, and runs toward her.

* * *

Ava wakes up sore the next morning; it’s a good sore, one that promises muscles and change, but one that makes itself known with every clasp done and sash tied. Dawn hasn’t even broken yet—it’s Ava’s best hour, one she looks forward to greeting every day. The fox mask looks up at her from her bedside table, but Ava turns her back to it. Just a morning check-up, a little exploring the tower. No one will know.

She’s just clicked her door closed when a soft and familiar voice says, “I didn’t think you’d be up this early.”

Ava yelps, flinching as she regards Invi in the hallway. She’s too poised for five in the morning, Ava immediately decides, the picture of elegance. “What’re _you_ doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought a walk might calm me down.” Her hands fidget along the folds of her robes. “What about you?”

“I like watching the sun rise,” Ava says simply.

“Your mask…”

“Is it that important?”

Invi nods. “But,” she says, “I won’t tell, as long as we don’t get caught.”

Ava smiles. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome—”

“Do you want to come with me?” Ava blurts without thinking. She pauses. “Unless you were going back to your room after a walk, I don’t want to keep you—“

“Your room faces the west?”

Ava blinks, pulling a few locks of burgundy hair out of her eyes. “Yeah.”

“I’m in the east.”

She wishes she had the mask to hide the heat flaring in her cheeks. Maybe it’s dark enough that Invi won’t notice. Ava swallows hard. “Yeah?”

“Only if you want!”

“No that sounds good. It’s good.” Laughing helps loosen the knots in her belly. “You’ll have to lead the way though.”

“Right! Right,” Invi says, and extends a hand. “Follow me.”

They aren’t as delicate as Ava thought they’d be—calluses are starting to form on her palm. It’s a good kind of rugged though, like the leather cover of that book. They fall in step with each other easily, silent save for the soft sounds of their shoes on the hardwood floor. Invi leads by touch, one squeeze per turn. Her palms are sweaty.

The only difference between their rooms is a tall stack of books on top of the small corner desk; same furniture, same powdery blue walls, same thin white curtains over the window. The first splashes of color are creeping in from the horizon, pale blues and pinks nipping at stars still trying to keep themselves lit.

“I hoped the fifth would be you,” Invi quietly says. She still has Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava’s palms feel just as sweaty now. “I missed you when you were gone.”

“We didn’t really know each other.” Invi sighs. “Still don’t.”

Ava takes a deep breath before squeezing their entwined hands. “Well,” she says, “there’s no better time to start. I’m Ava.”

“It suits you. More than my name for you.” She ducks her head as Ava stares. After a few long and awkward moments she says, “ _girl with the good smile._ ”

“You were _girl from the bookshop_ so. I think you win.” They both laugh, so soft Ava has to strain to hear it. She turns again to the window, gesturing forward. “So…”

Invi drops their hands and follows her to the opening, pushing the curtains back farther. Ava’s so used to having these mornings by herself, rubbing sleep from her eyes to watch the world wake up. But this is nice too.

“Thank you,” Invi says.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Ava says. “Letting me stay here this morning.”

“It’s nice. I haven’t watched the sunrise in ages.”

Her heart’s warm in her chest, the knots in her belly loose. “We could make a habit of it,” Ava says. “If that’s okay. Not the same as talking at your shop but, you know.”

“I do. And I’d like that very much.”

It’s going to be a sunny day today, she thinks; only a few wisps of clouds in the sky, leaving plenty of space for blue. Good for dancing in the square.

Good for kissing pretty girls, if she’s honest with herself.

Invi’s looking at her when Ava turns, gently tugging her bottom lip with her teeth—it’s familiar, deliciously so. She doesn’t feel herself moving forward until Invi meets her halfway. The bridge of her nose rests on the cool lip of the mask, at odds with Invi’s warm breath. With Invi’s warm lips pressing softly against hers.

The first kiss doesn’t last long, but it bleeds into another, chaste and inviting. And another, Ava’s tongue tapping against Invi’s bottom lip. And another, that ends with Invi smiling too wide to keep their mouths together and Ava dissolving into giggles.

“Was that okay?” Invi asks, “because I haven’t—I—”

“No you were fine, you were...  _great,_ ” Ava starts, a little lightheaded. Then stops. “Haven’t what?”

Invi clears her throat. “Kissed. Anyone.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yes.”

Could have fooled her. “Well… you have nothing to worry about. You were good. Even with the mask.”

Invi considers this for a moment. She turns to the door, pauses, then nods. Ava doesn’t realize what she’s doing until the snake mask comes off, the scarf pulled lower down her neck. Brown eyes peek out at her from a curtain of black hair, paired with a coy smile. “I… might need a few lessons.”

Ava smirks. “Lucky for you,” she says, “I’m an excellent teacher.”

“I learn quickly,” she says, and leans in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter!](http://twitter.com/awakingdormancy)


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